


after party

by orphan_account



Category: The Witcher (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Blow Jobs, Established Relationship, Hand Jobs, Light Bondage, M/M, geralt is more than happy to oblige, jaskier takes control
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-24
Updated: 2020-01-24
Packaged: 2021-02-27 03:48:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 976
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22380586
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Geralt and Jaskier get home from a night out at a particularly boring party. Jaskier decides to change that boringness.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 4
Kudos: 170





	after party

Geralt is uncertain of how he got into this position.

It wasn’t unwelcomed. The rope bore into his wrists, but the blunt roughness of it digging into weaker skin, and combined with the sight in front of him of his lover more than slowly undressing, made for an arousing moment the longer it dragged on. Jaskier’s ideas get bolder by the minute, especially during sex, when they’re both at the most vulnerable they’ll allow themselves to be.

Jaskier, who will not admit he’s doing a striptease, is slowly peeling off his clothing from the night they had just had, spent at a party neither of them truly wanted to go to. The food was average at best, the drinks were less than mediocre, and the loud setting killed Geralt’s more sensitive ears. Jaskier didn’t have a good time either; he was responsible for the music, but if he’s being quite honest, his plan was simply to leave a playlist playing and just leave when possible. He had cornered Geralt only an hour into the party and whined about wanting to go home, so they did; Jaskier had the decency to text the host that he had business to attend to, and yet,  _ business _ is currently tied by the wrists kneeling, legs spread wide so he can get a good look of  _ business’  _ cock.

“How much slower will you move?” Geralt grunts, growing impatient by the second. Jaskier grins, finally taking off his underwear and making his way towards the witcher. He leans in to kiss his lover, the man who knew him best, hands roaming his scarred chest and feeling the muscle there. Geralt has half a mind to try and reach for Jaskier, only to realise his ‘predicament’.

“Be a good boy, and you get what you want.” Jaskier says, his smirk more audible than it was visible. Geralt begins to speak his retort, but is cut off by his own self, breathing in curtly as Jaskier touches his hard cock. It’s gentle, only feather light, and yet the grazing of it turns him into mush for the musician. “You know, I actually quite feel like treating you tonight.” He hums, his tone one that he knows Geralt finds humour in. He looks into golden eyes, pupils blown wide as he strokes him slowly.

“Yeah?” Geralt asks breathlessly, muscular thighs clenching as Jaskier rubs his palm against the head. With a shudder, he arches his back inward to give the sly musician a better angle. “Any.. particular reasons why?” He manages, voice quivering a little at the soft yet direct movements on his cock.

“Oh, none so recently. Think of it as.. payback, for how well you treat me.” The singer says, leaning down and taking Geralt into his mouth. The other man shudders, biting his lip at the sudden sensation of Jaskier’s wet mouth wrapped around his cock, head tended to by his tongue. At this pace, he’s not going to last very long, a fact he makes clear to Jaskier, with the trembling of his thighs and the red on his usually porcelain white cheeks.

“Jaskier, slow down,” He breathes out, the skin of his bottom lip breaking from how hard he bites it when, instead of complying, Jaskier simply goes deeper, takes more of him into his mouth, seemingly ignoring that Geralt’s devolved into  _ whining _ , of all things. “I- Jask, I’m close, baby—” He says, voice rough in the way that Jaskier wants him to sound like. The musician hums his approval, laying the witcher’s cock flat on his tongue when Geralt cums with a gasp.

Jaskier hardly has to look at Geralt’s face to know the man is, for lack of a better word, simply debauched, still tugging incessantly at the rope around his wrists as he tries to chase a kiss from Jaskier. Not one to deny his boyfriend of his affection, he kisses the witcher, tasting the tangy taste of blood from where Geralt worried at his lip so much. Reaching behind him, Jaskier unties the ropes, thankful that he learned how to do this in past relationships rather than diving headfirst into the unknown and, hilariously, possibly trapping his witcher in rope. Though he knows it in himself that Geralt would sooner rip the rope than be stuck for hours while Jaskier googles rope untying techniques, it would certainly have been a mood killer.

“Jask,” Geralt says when they break apart, a lightness in his voice that didn’t come often. Jaskier, in wordless adoration, moves his lips to kiss down his jaw, then his neck, until he’s peppering kisses on a chiseled collarbone. “You’re still hard.” Geralt points out, reaching his hand over to stroke along the length of Jaskier’s own leaking length.

“W-why thank you for noticing,” Jaskier says, humour in his tone as he kisses up to Geralt’s neck, planting sloppy kisses and paying special attention to the spot he knows is more sensitive than the rest. “I am, in fact, still hard. What of it?” He asks, the challenge in his voice so easily detectable by even the dimmest fool. Geralt grins, unfolding his legs from kneeling and raising Jaskier from his spot in between his legs to sitting on his lap, legs wrapped around his waist.

“Perhaps I should just leave you here to deal with it.” Geralt drawls, but he makes no move, stays planted on the bed as he paws and massages Jaskier’s ass cheeks, angling his neck so the guitarist has space to kiss him. Despite all the odds, Jaskier still smells more like orchids than sweat and musk. “You would  _ never _ ,” Jaskier replies, contributing a little bit of banter to balance their ordeal out.

And when the witcher touches his prick and tells him  _ no, I’d never, _ he knows that, while unprecedented, Jaskier’s decision to lead was a welcomed choice.

**Author's Note:**

> i’m theratofrivia on tumblr!


End file.
